


Welcome Home

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Dorks in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28315041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: Dean and Cas take a special trip up to the mountains for their first Christmas together. Dean hopes they'll be many more to celebrate in the future together.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62
Collections: Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saarahisabels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saarahisabels/gifts).



The five-hour drive to the White Mountains would be worth it, Dean kept telling himself. Irrefutably, undeniably, completely worth it. 

He had to keep repeating it; otherwise, he’d go insane. 

The radio had stopped working as soon as they passed Hartford and into Springfield, but the Christmas music had been a pleasant distraction from his nerves while it lasted. 

Dean tapped nervously along to Little Drummer Boy and then to an instrumental piece of Aud Lang Syne; Cas hadn’t moved much as they drove, but Dean did smile when he saw his foot tap along here and there. 

But once the car filled with silence, a patiently waiting tidal wave of doubts flooded Dean’s mind once more, forcing him to only think about the bag in the backseat which contained few gifts for each other. Nestled in there was a medium-sized box which disguised a smaller box which disguised an even smaller box that contained the object causing all of Dean’s distress. When he had wrapped it, the idea seemed so perfect and he couldn’t get the image out of his head of Cas’s face lighting up by the fireplace when they unwrapped everything—

That image, once at the forefront of his mind, completely collapsed when Dean picked Cas up at his apartment that afternoon. Cas greeted Dean with enthusiasm but knowing to hold back on the physical welcome until they were out of the view of wandering eyes. No matter the level of excitement Cas had, Dean could sense the hesitancy. 

This was their first big trip together. Completely alone in the middle of the woods with little to turn to for distraction or conversation.

All Dean could think of was that hesitation, the question of trust, and when the music had finally faded from his car’s radio signal, the questions grew in volume.

They had blocked off the long weekend to celebrate the holiday and to hopefully celebrate each other without fears of Cas’s landlord asking why Dean was there for the third straight time that week, or their battle every time they had gone out in public, trying to fight off the overwhelming desire to jump each other. _Who cared about etiquette? Why couldn’t they have some fun in a theater?_

Dean had only just moved out of his own apartment a month prior, just before Thanksgiving, finally saving up enough money for a house just outside of the city. It was small but secluded with the nearest neighbor not even visible through the trees.

Dean didn’t want to share the house alone. 

Cas didn’t know Dean had bought a house. 

The Christmas gift idea spawned off of that.

And it wasn’t so much the fact Dean was terrified of offering his home to Cas, away from nosy neighbors and landlords and theater patrons, but it was that it was so _soon_.

They had met almost a year ago to the day, just a few days after the first of the year. Cas had collapsed with a heavy sigh into a barstool in front of Dean’s counter, asking for the strongest drink available. Dean obliged and took some enjoyment at watching a white-collar ace accountant completely dissolve until he was utterly lost in the sauce. 

Dean had to help Cas home that night, and the rest of their relationship fell into place from there.

It had been a year, an amazing one, but Dean didn’t know the rules when it came to this side of the dating spectrum. 

And yet, in the back seat of the car, wrapped in a few boxes, was a second key to Dean’s new home, ready for Cas to unwrap.

Dean started to tap the wheel again as the sun set below the mountains and they continued driving.

The cabin itself sat on the slope of a mountain, unlocked, ready for Cas and Dean to settle in for the weekend. Their neighbors sat a good distance away with enough trees standing between the cabins acting as a privacy screen. They had already packed away some food for their dinner that night, having to stop at the market in Manchester to pick up some extra things. They checked out separately, doing the shopping apart from each other, like usual.

They didn’t need questions in rural New Hampshire.

At one point, back in the fall as they were falling asleep at Cas’s apartment (one of the rare times Dean wasn’t seen going in), Dean had asked how long he thought people “like them” had to keep looking over their shoulder. Cas, half asleep, mumbled something about “probably fifty or sixty years”, and Dean scoffed, trying immediately to stem the panic the surged inside him.

“So when we’re ninety or a hundred, in the new millennia, when we live on the moon and have buildings that reach outer space?”

“Don’t forget the teleportation,” Cas had responded, eyes closed, half asleep.

It sounded so ridiculous, all of it, and Dean did not sleep well that night. The unreachable future, that’s what it was. Cas’s answer was essentially “not in our lifetimes”. The concept lent itself to be so unbelievable, Cas had lumped it in with all the other crazy predictions for a future they most likely wouldn’t see.

It had taken most of the following day for Cas to gently remind Dean that even with the hardships, what they had was something good and special and that pining after something so far away distracts from the now. He used several methods to calm Dean down, most of which included staying in bed for that Sunday, not having to worry about much of anything at all. And it worked.

But the fear always popped up when they had to do things like grocery shopping alone, pretending not to know each other. They were terrible actors and couldn’t play it off as just two friends buying some bread. They knew their limits.

“They put up a tree in advance,” Cas said, as they brought in the groceries, a small smile on his face.

Sure enough, the property owners did in fact cut down an evergreen tree and left a box with a note next to it: “Decorate as you please! A Very Merry Christmas to you and yours!”

“That was nice of them,” Dean said, leaving the bags outside the kitchen nook, walking over to open the box, but Cas kept a hand over the opening, blocking Dean. 

“I’ll decorate, you make dinner,” he said in response to Dean’s confused frown, “I want to surprise you.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but at the same time, he also knew how much this Christmas had to mean to Cas. It was the first one really on his own. Last Christmas, Cas had moved into his apartment and didn’t have time for decorating, and just by him giving Dean snapshots of his upbringing, it sounded like Cas’s Christmas with his well-to-do family was more of a strained event than a merry one where no one decorated. They instead paid people to do it for them.

“Alright,” Dean answered, amused by the bright, eager spark in Cas’s eyes, “When you’re done can you get a fire going?”

Cas paused and glanced around him to the fireplace.

“I don’t know how to do that.”

Dean laughed as he turned around to pick up the bags, “I should have figured. Make the tree pretty!” 

In the kitchen, Dean heard Cas open the box with some jingling and rustling of a tinsel bag. A moment later, the cabin filled with the voice Bing Crosby informing them that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

They worked in their respective spaces for nearly thirty minutes, Dean finally getting the prime rib roast into the oven, the nearly-too-small oven, and the side dishes ready to go once they got closer to chow time. They’d be eating a little later than Dean had initially wanted, but working with a limited kitchen had its downfalls. 

“Are you ready yet?” Dean asked, not going around the doorway into the living room just yet. 

He heard Cas sigh as a bag rustled, “It’s not done but you can help me with this part otherwise it’ll take all night.”

Dean smiled as he walked through the doorway, greeted by a mostly decorated, though unlit, Christmas tree. 

Cas, despite not having any experience, managed to equally space out the bobbles instead of clumping them into one space, and put the heavier ceramic ones near the bottom of the tree, on sturdier branches, and the glass and brushed silver ones closer to the top. Cas could have interspersed them a little better, but for a first-timer, didn’t look too off the cob. 

Dean walked over to Cas who held a bag of tinsel and grabbed a handful. 

“You didn’t put the angel up?”

“I didn’t want to do it without you,” Cas answered quietly, laying some silvery tinsel on the branches, securing themselves in the needles, “It seemed special.”

It took all of Dean’s strength to not just push Cas onto the couch and attack his mouth with that comment. All his life Dean just threw the tree topper on at the beginning just so he didn’t forget it, never once thinking it was something special. It was just another Christmas decoration. But Cas had a habit of finding even the most mundane things special and worth treasuring, and Dean loved him for it.

Dean succeeded in his self-control and they finished tossing tinsel onto the branches in relative silence as the record switched through two and a half more songs. 

“No lights?” Dean asked as he finished the last of the tinsel in his hand, glancing down into the box. 

Cas shook his head and looked around the tree into the corner behind it.

“No, but there are these,” he said.

Dean looked as well and sure enough, two color wheels sat in the corner with their plugs wrapped around them. 

“Oh, perfect—here grab that one and plug it in, give me the other,” Dean instructed, pointing at them. Cas obeyed and gave Dean one. A little _wrrrr!_ jump-started the wheel and they both began to spin slowly once they plugged them in. The light illuminated the tree decorated in silver, playing off the glass and silver ornaments. 

“Nice they had those, didn’t want to catch a dry tree on fire in a wooden cabin,” Dean mumbled, watching the tree turn green to yellow to blue—

Cas moved beside him, heading to the couch to pick up the angel. Dean didn’t know how old it was but would place the bet at maybe forty, fifty years old—turn of the century style.

“My family had one like this,” Dean said watching Cas reach up to place it on the top of the tree. He placed a hand up there to help steady it. The angel lit up with the projected colors, almost looking like she was moving all on her own. 

“Do you have it at your place?” Cas asked, putting away the empty bag and box the angel came in. 

Dean shook his head and sighed, looking over to the woodpile in the other corner, “Gave her to my brother. He didn’t really want anything from the house but he always liked that angel so—”

“That was nice of you.”

Dean turned back to Cas to say something else but the words died in his throat as he saw Cas watching the angel. The light of the color wheels also played off of his face, illuminating him in a multitude of colors and brightening his eyes, making them look almost rainbow. The sight of Cas’s wonderment only confirmed what Dean had decided on when he first bought the house. 

He wanted to see this all the time. 

He never wanted a day to go by where he didn’t see this wonderment on Cas’s face or curiosity or love or anything. Dean didn’t think he could simply move through life without it. 

“We have some time before dinner is ready,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “I can set up the fire—wasn’t sure if you wanted to do gifts now or after—?”

The question left him before he could stop it. 

_Not ready, not ready, not ready_ , was all his brain could shout at him as he immediately tried to figure out if he wanted to give the key tonight or tomorrow morning. They had decided before the trip that they’d open one gift on Christmas Eve like Dean’s family was used to doing, and one on Christmas morning, like Cas’s family did.

Dean’s brain threw out various reasons and scenarios to help Dean make his decision: If Cas accepted, they’d have a pretty great night in bed and the buzz will make for a very merry Christmas. If he said no, the night would consist of a conversation to hopefully work through things so their Christmas morning wouldn’t be as awkward and sad. If Dean waited until the morning to gift the key, then it’d dampen the whole day if Cas said no. 

Dean didn’t think he could take the anticipation anxiety anymore. 

Cas paused before looking over at Dean with a warm smile, “Let’s do it now. Been waiting all day for you to see your present.”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Kneeling in front of the fireplace, he began giving Cas instructions on what he’d need. 

Focusing on the fire helped settle Dean down a little as he patiently waited for the newspaper to catch on the wood. It was dry wood, but hard, and it was difficult to get going. The waiting bought Dean precious time in his head to sort everything out.

However, Cas, bored, eventually moved away from Dean’s side and went out to the car to retrieve the four gifts. The fire began to slowly spread onto the logs as Dean’s heart rate picked up. Cas came back in and left the gifts in a pile next to Dean with the one containing the key on top. 

Dean felt strapped to a meteor that was about to crash without anyone able to stop it. He could only watch helplessly as the moment came hurtling toward him. 

In his life, Dean didn’t anticipate ever truly settling down with anyone. He had a few birds on his arm but their relationship never made it far into the future, much to his family’s disappointment. Dean didn’t have dreams of white gowns, tuxedos, and golden rings, and he still didn’t. That wasn’t his world and it never will be. 

But in a way, giving Cas the key to Dean’s life, to his space, to his world, felt almost the same as giving him a ring to wear around his finger. It may not be obvious to folks around them, since you can’t wear a key on your finger, but the symbolism remained.

 _Please say yes_ , Dean threw the desperate wish out into the open as Cas sat on the couch behind Dean. _Please, please, please—_

Confident the fire would keep, Dean tossed aside the box of matches and stood. Before moving over to the couch, he pointed to the gifts. 

“Which one am I taking?”

“The one on the top,” Cas said, still smiling. Dean swallowed his nerves and grabbed the smaller present as well as the one with the key. 

Impact was imminent. 

They settled on the couch facing each other as Cas drew one leg up underneath him. Dean mirrored the position. His mind raced a mile a minute but there were no thoughts associated with it, just the laborious energy spent in trying to sprint to the desirable outcome. Dean already started to feel out of breath just sitting there. Trying to swallow, he gave up, realizing his mouth was too dry. 

“Who’s—” he started but Cas waved his hand as Ave Maria came up next.

“You go first,” he said, excitement growing on his face. The excitement caused Dean to smile, despite his nerves, and he nodded his head, unwrapping the neatly assembled package.

Under the golden paper was a wider, flat box, the likes of which Dean had seen used for necklaces or other pieces of jewelry. Wildly, he thought for a moment Cas was about to present him with an elaborate pendant necklace, but as he undid the cover, Dean was instead greeted by a brochure. 

On it were illustrated figures on horseback with grand mountains in the background. Emblazoned in bright red, old-country text: “Flat Creek Ranch”.

Stuck to the front of the brochure, a piece of paper which read “July 10th-July 18th, 1955” then “King suite” in Cas’s handwriting with a small heart next to it.

Dean’s racing mind hit the brakes, coming to a screeching halt as the warmth from the fire and from the gift completely melted his nerves. He looked up at Cas who beamed back at him.

“You—is this—?”

Cas laughed and peered back over the box, “Yes, so, I managed to secure a week at the Flat Creek Ranch for this summer. Someone answered my prayers because when I had called a week before, they had no availability.”

Dean listened as he flipped open the brochure. He had one to the very same ranch once with his uncle and brother when he was fifteen but hadn’t had a chance to go back since. Not only did everyone want to go to Jackson Hole for the summer, booking up all the rooms, but also—

“Cas, this is expensive,” Dean admonished, reading about the services available, “A whole week?”

Cas sighed and glanced at the fire. He had been cut off from his family for a year and didn’t have all that money saved up, all of his accounts belonging also to his family. His work as a tax accountant wasn’t glamorous and didn’t pay all that much, certainly not enough to keep up the lifestyle he was accustomed to. There had been points in the year that Dean had known him that Cas found himself in an almost dire financial state. 

“I started saving up since you told me that story last spring,” Cas explained, “Just a little bit from each paycheck can go a long way, turns out.”

Gratitude and disbelief flooded Dean as he automatically leaned forward to catch Cas in a kiss. He wished stronger words than “Thank You” existed—the excitement coursing through his body didn’t match that sentiment. The gratitude ran deeper than a simple “Thank You”.

The trip was a beautiful gift, but there was another factor of delight that Cas had inadvertently given Dean.

It was the fact that Cas anticipated them still being together in seven months' time. The brochure, the trip, all told Dean that Cas wasn’t having second thoughts about their relationship under the surface and that he really did have no doubts of them continuing forward. The burden of having to exist in the time they do with the restrictions on them, did nothing to dampen Cas’s enthusiasm for their relationship. Deep down, Dean knew that already, but seeing it visible, tangible in his hands, was something else entirely.

As they broke apart, that irrational fear that had built up as Dean mused about his gift to Cas fizzled from his head. 

“Okay you have to open your present now,” Dean said, voice low. The happiness from Cas’s gift and his sudden freedom from almost crippling anxiety strengthened the desire to shove all the pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the fire, pulling Cas down with him as well—

Cas smiled and began unwrapping the box. Dean watched, amused, as Cas pulled out the first of the wrapped boxes, frowning in confusion. 

“Keep going,” Dean said, waving his hand. 

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Cas unwrapped the second box, procuring the third. 

“Dean—what—”

“Keep going,” Dean repeated, amusement growing. 

Cas unwrapped the third box finally coming to the tiny one, also wrapped. He huffed in frustration but pulled on the bow and gently peeled away the tape from the paper. 

Dean held his breath as Cas opened the top of the tiny box.

There, sitting in a nestled bed of tinsel was the house key that mirrored Dean’s. It sat gleaming by the fire’s light, untouched by hands other than Dean’s as he put it in there. 

Cas, eyes widened slightly, reached in and gently lifted the key out of the box and ran a thumb over the engraved house number. He looked back up at Dean with sincere confusion on his face. Dean took a deep breath, trying to recall the half-formed speech in his head he created when first wrapping the key.

“I bought a house about a month ago, outside the city,” he started, trying to keep his voice steady, “And it’s not a big house, but it’s too big for one person. I was hoping that when your lease is up, you’d want to maybe join me and—”

Dean’s word got caught off as Cas surged forward on the couch, pressing himself close and drawing Dean into a deep kiss without any warning. All the warmth that managed to bloom during Dean’s unwrapping of Cas’s gift exploded into a firestorm, coursing through his body. They both set their boxes down on the ground as Cas shifted until he settled between Dean’s legs, resting against him. The fire crackled merrily beside them, also enthusiastic, as the wind outside rattled the door slightly. 

“I’m assuming that’s a yes?” Dean whispered after Cas moved away from his mouth and over to his neck. 

Cas stopped what he was doing and moved so he could look Dean directly, face illuminated by the fire and Christmas tree lights, emphasizing the brightness in his eyes

“How much more enthusiastic can I be?” he asked, breathless with a wide smile on his face, “That’s a very kind thing to ask me and I wish I had a stronger word for ‘yes’ than ‘yes’ but—”

“It’s a yes?”

Cas placed another soft kiss on Dean’s mouth, still smiling. Any sense of fear or foreboding Dean had earlier had completely evaporated, leaving only a pure sense of Christmas joy that felt unequivocally theirs to keep, forever. 

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa fic for saarahstiel on Tumblr! I hope you enjoyed it and a Merry Christmas to you! It was a delight scrolling through your Tumblr to see what kind of fics you'd like to read xD 
> 
> Have a wonderful Christmas, and Happy New Year! 
> 
> Jen <3  
> wigglebox


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